


my scars / your light

by fraldariuwus (sakesword)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, FE3H Kinkmeme, Fluff, Kissing, Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romance, Sexual Content, Smut, Top My Unit | Byleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24729673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakesword/pseuds/fraldariuwus
Summary: Before their army marches on Enbarr, Byleth takes Yuri away for a night and they finally sleep together.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 24
Kudos: 171





	my scars / your light

**Author's Note:**

> CW: brief mention of Yuri’s past career, and some less-than-fun times he had in that line of work. Nothing too detailed, but just a heads up.
> 
> Fill for the FE3H Kinkmeme! The prompt was Byleth and Yuri’s first time together, Yuri being attentive to Byleth’s pleasure, but Byleth taking the time to appreciate all of Yuri’s imperfections. 
> 
> I didn’t expect to fill any kinkmeme prompts, but I randomly opened to the page that contained this one and I knew I had to try to write something for it!

_ Let’s get out of the monastery tonight, just the two of us. _

Yuri never expected that Byleth would take him here. A prestigious inn, tucked away in the mountains neighboring Garreg Mach. It’s close as the crow flies, but the journey had lasted the majority of the afternoon and into the early evening. The sunset was spectacular, the supper they’d stopped for, satisfying enough.

Not only is this an establishment where the important might stop along their travels, but the suite they’ve just entered is one only serious coin can purchase. A room with its own bathing chamber attached, a home away from home for the weary nobility. Yuri tenses as he remembers other times he spent in similar accommodations. At least getting forced down into luxurious cotton instead of threadbare linens is gentle on one’s skin.

Truthfully, they weren't all so rough. Some actually did their best to show Yuri a good time before they left their money on the nightstand and rode off into the darkness. Yuri tries to hide his grimace, but Byleth is always attentive enough to question every minor scrunching of Yuri’s brow.

“Is the room not to your liking?” Byleth doesn’t seem upset, just concerned for Yuri's comfort.

“It's not that.” This doesn’t elicit the fondest memories for him, but Yuri’s with the person he loves. Yuri will make sure that Byleth has the fun he promised him years ago, “I'm glad to be with you.”

Byleth wraps his arm around Yuri's waist, “I am too.”

“Well, I suppose you brought me here for a reason,  _ friend _ ,” Yuri flirts, “we’ll finally be able to spend a night together.” Though Yuri is being suggestive, it’s a rather happy thought. Not having to separate from Byleth after they’ve been intimate. Not descending the stairway to Abyss at an ungodly hour, with a stomach full of seed and a longing in his heart. Not sighing as he climbs into his bunk bed, the creaking of wood alerting Balthus that he’s been up to something.

It’s not unlikely that their fellow soldiers know about Yuri and Byleth’s relationship. Even though Yuri’s damn skilled at seduction, even though he’s slinked into Byleth’s quarters past midnight plenty of times, even though he kissed Byleth before  _ and  _ after Byleth’s shocking return, even though Yuri  _ waited  _ for Byleth to return—they still haven’t woken up together. They still haven’t fucked.

“Yes, I did,” Byleth says, tightening his grip on Yuri, “I needed to be with you before we march on Enbarr.” Byleth’s honesty can be overwhelming, after playing so many like fiddles and dealing with double-crossers and triple-crossers for years, it never fails to catch Yuri off guard.

“Does Prince Dimitri approve of you squandering his kingdom's fortune on the likes of me?” Yuri deflects as his heart starts to flutter.

“Don't worry about it, and it’s not squandering if it’s for you,” Byleth says, kissing Yuri on the cheek. Yuri instinctively reaches behind him to stroke along Byleth’s jaw and pull him into a deeper kiss. He’ll never tire of the way Byleth tastes: fresh and clean and invigorating.

Pure.

Yuri extends his tongue, expressing his feelings in the manner he’s accustomed to. Yuri knows where this is headed, why not expedite the process?

Byleth accepts but abruptly withdraws, “Wait. We have all night. I want to enjoy this with you. They’ve even provided some wine for us.”

“Oh?” Yuri teases, “You’ve decided to romance me the way I deserve?”

“I'm trying,” Byleth admits, “Let me stoke the hearth. Sit down and I'll help you out of your armor.”

“If you insist.” As he makes his way to the sitting area, Yuri surveys their quarters for the evening. This room is even more opulent than Yuri thought; a hearth, with an ornately embroidered settee facing it. A canopied bed with engraved mahogany posts and rich white linens. A tall, bronze candelabra beside it. Much more than anyone could need, now or ever.

Yuri takes a seat, removing his cape, slinging it over the settee’s backrest, while Byleth lights a fire. The orange glow of flames flickers off of Byleth’s face as he returns and kneels in front of Yuri, his hands beginning to unfasten the various contraptions holding Yuri’s greaves on.

“Thanks.” When Byleth reaches the large buckle securing his belt, Yuri laughs, “My favorite part.”

“What about what happens next?”

Yuri blushes, he doesn’t know how Byleth always chooses the perfect time to flirt back, to leave him flustered and wanting more.

“Come here, you. I’ll help with yours.” Once Byleth finds a place beside him, Yuri makes quick work of his armor and soon Byleth is in only his high-collared black undershirt, breeches, and boots. “Much better.” 

Just before Yuri can stroke along Byleth’s chest and lean on his shoulder, Byleth rises and walks toward a bureau against one of the stone walls, opening a cabinet and retrieving the aforementioned wine. It’s sealed with a crimson wax, which Byleth swiftly takes a dagger to. Observing the force with which Byleth slices away at it captivates Yuri: the strength, the power, the focus, the delineation of Byleth’s forearm muscles as he clutches the leather hilt.

When Byleth returns with two glasses in hand, Yuri is hot not only from the hearth. Yuri can’t resist cuddling up to Byleth when he joins him on the bench, setting the glasses and wine down on a low table in front of them. Yuri doesn’t need the wine, he just needs Byleth, “I have a better idea.”

“Yuri, please.” Byleth says, “When do we ever have the chance to relax like this?” Byleth has a point, most of their time alone is hurried—stealing kisses in dark corners, rushed rendezvouses between training, tactics meetings, treating with the enemy, plus Yuri’s own priorities in Abyss.

“I suppose I can wait,” Yuri relents, “but make no mistake, I want you tonight.”

Byleth just hunches forward to pour the garnet wine and hands Yuri a glass before clinking his own with it. For such a dark wine, the fruity floral notes are as brilliant as the sun, a melody strikes Yuri’s taste buds as he makes himself comfortable.

The hearth, the wine, Byleth, the only sounds the roaring of the fire and that of glass set on wood—this atmosphere is transformative. Byleth was right, taking this time to be near each other is so, so important. These fleeting moments are exactly what Yuri will remember, what he hopes Byleth will remember, when he’s gone.

“Come with me.” Byleth rises from the settee, drawing Yuri out of his musings, “I want to show you something. Take the wine.”

Yuri tries to think of something sharp to respond with, but he’s so content right now.

Byleth guides Yuri to a door Yuri hadn’t noticed on the back wall, turning the gilded knob, and pushing it forward. Yuri almost gasps when he sees the balcony’s stunning view of the Fódlan countryside. As soon as they place their cups down on the stone ledge, Yuri’s hand is warmed by Byleth’s. A static pulse surges through Yuri and he nearly lets go, but resolves to grasp tighter. It's dark, yet the stars are twinkling and Yuri can still decipher the ridges of the mountains under the crescent moon.

Though Abyss is where Yuri belongs, after spending so much time underground, it's breathtaking to be so high, so tranquil, surrounded by open air. So many places one can go, so many things one can be—these are the types of dreams Yuri kept as a child, back when he went by a different name, back when he had a different home. Yuri’s wiser now; he knows becoming those things is  _ never  _ free, but damn it if being up here doesn’t make him wish it were.

When Byleth squeezes on Yuri's hand again, Yuri turns to the side to face him. There he is, the one Yuri’s been in love with for five years, handsome profile, hair shining ethereally underneath the cloudless night sky. Skin so smooth. What did Yuri do to deserve this?

Yuri might drown just staring at Byleth, get trapped beneath the waves and never surface, but a chill breeze sends a shiver throughout his being and Byleth releases his hand as Yuri trembles. “Wait here.”

There’s no time to ask  _ why?  _ before Byleth departs, entering their suite again, leaving Yuri there to scan, to ponder.  _ That brightness; constellations, the King’s Right Hand, hmm? _

The heavy door creaks open shortly thereafter and something drapes over Yuri’s shoulders; could it be?  _ Byleth’s cloak. _ It's large on him, but Yuri never wants to take it off, Yuri’s arms snake into the holes and he pulls it around himself.

This might have already been enough to keep the cold at bay, but Byleth hugs Yuri from behind, “Is that better?”

"Yeah.” Byleth’s kindness is so foreign to Yuri he can’t help but blush and not know what to say other than, “thank you.”

Byleth leans forward, holding Yuri there for Goddess knows how long, every second Yuri’s heart races quicker. He can’t count how many times his gaze traverses the jagged edge of the mountains, the crystal stemmed glass resting before him, what might be the Blue Sea Star.

“Yuri.” Byleth’s tone is serious.

“What is it?”

“I want to make love tonight.”

Byleth just says it—straight out, no build up, no stuttering. Even though Yuri wants to, even though Yuri’s been trying to make that happen for years, it burns him up inside. It definitely isn’t the alcohol setting Yuri aflame, but Yuri finishes his wine in a poor attempt to check that it just might be, to build his confidence as he states, “That can be arranged.”

With that, Byleth tilts Yuri’s face back to kiss him. So gentle. Only a brush of their lips against each other, yet Yuri feels like he’s been electrified. Hand trailing along Byleth’s jaw, Yuri kisses deeper, licking at Byleth’s lips. This time Byleth receives Yuri, closing his eyes.

The pearly glow of Byleth’s cheekbones, the dark eyelashes, Byleth’s bangs falling forward. It’s too gorgeous, too poetic, nothing Yuri has experienced before—Yuri has to turn to face Byleth, has to push up against Byleth, has to shut his own eyes, has to surrender to the sensation—the sight is too much to bear.

It's better like this, when the contours of their bodies fit together, when Yuri’s heart beats against Byleth’s still chest, when Yuri can grind against Byleth’s thigh. Maybe it’s soon, but after waiting for what may as well have been an eternity, Yuri cares not. And thankfully, Byleth doesn’t withdraw, instead placing a hand on the small of Yuri’s back and pulling him even closer as they kiss.

The quiet sounds of their lips, the slight stick of Yuri’s gloss, the plush aftertaste of the wine. Yuri lets out a sigh as he wedges his hand between them to stroke along Byleth’s length. It’s hard; Byleth tenses before grabbing at Yuri’s biceps, turning him and pushing Yuri against the outdoor wall of their suite, never once breaking the kiss.

There’s something secure about being pinned between the stone and Byleth, the full body weight against him, the relinquishing of control. Maybe after leading so many, it’s nice to be the one led. Maybe after all of the hurt, it’s nice to get lost in pleasure.

Even through clothing, rubbing his cock against Byleth’s is only making Yuri more anxious to get inside and do what they’re overdue to. The cloak is far too warm when Byleth catches Yuri’s lower lip between his teeth. It always surprises Yuri when Byleth has mastered these expert kissing techniques, he certainly was unaware of them that first time in the monastery library.

“Fuck, Byleth,” Yuri murmurs, retreating from the subtle, exquisite pain.

“Sorry,” Byleth says, “was that okay?”

“Goddess,  _ yes. _ ” Yuri strokes through Byleth’s hair coaxing him back into a kiss. The light throbbing of his lip is only adding to Yuri’s lust. Yuri fills Byleth’s mouth with his tongue, savoring every last drop. Yuri’s shallow rubbing becomes more urgent, why isn’t Byleth touching him yet?

Sometimes Byleth needs to be shown what to do. Yuri grasps Byleth’s wrist and places his hand between them.

“Let’s go inside,” Byleth breathes, giving Yuri some space. Just before Yuri can walk to the door, Byleth lifts him from beneath his thighs. That strength again—being  _ handled  _ like this—Yuri holds onto Byleth with everything he has as Byleth carries him back into the room, “You’re so light.”

  
  


It’s warm here, both from Byleth and from the still-smoldering hearth. The flames have died down, but there’s the occasional crackle, and that homey, nostalgic scent of burning wood. 

Byleth doesn’t waste time, he lays Yuri on the bed.  _ Wait,  _ a small voice within Yuri whines, a voice that wants to do this on his terms, wants to change into the lingerie he brought, wants to be  _ pretty. _ But Byleth’s on him, leaning between Yuri’s thighs, lips pressing, over and over, along Yuri’s temple and into his cheek. The true Yuri won’t cut this short for anything.

Byleth only pauses to say, “I’m so happy,” before their mouths meet again. They’re where they’re meant to be, Byleth’s tongue deep in Yuri’s mouth, their erections against each other. When Yuri closes his eyes, he’s at peace—a part of something greater—but, when he opens them, there’s a fear. 

The candles, their damn light. In the shadows, Yuri can hide.

“Byleth, wait.”

“What is it?”

_ You’re going to realize what I really am.  _ “It’s so bright…”

“Yes,” Byleth says, “you’re so beautiful.” Byleth’s smile is full of innocence—no, not innocence; Byleth has seen the world, just as Yuri has, albeit a different part—it’s care, it’s joy. “Even in my cloak.” As if Byleth could be any more adorable, he adds  _ that  _ reminder on top of calling Yuri beautiful. This is bewildering. “But I’d like to remove it. I want to see you.”

Yuri’s heart thumps at Byleth’s words as he frees his arms from the cloak, there’s still one more layer, “I suppose it’s nothing you haven’t seen before…”

Byleth kneels on the bed, beside Yuri. It’s agonizing as Byleth fumbles with the buttons of Yuri’s undershirt, one-by-one. The war—life—hasn’t always been kind to Yuri, and the darkness conceals all manner of flaws. Had they gone to Abyss, this wouldn’t have been such an ordeal.

Once the blouse hangs to either side of Yuri’s body, Byleth’s gaze pierces through Yuri, his calloused hand trails over Yuri’s chest, he bites his lip. What is Byleth thinking? Yuri is  _ vulnerable  _ like this; there’s at least one white indent of scarring near his left nipple, one Yuri can never not stare at when he undresses in the evening, when it catches the light just right and shines like a sliver of the moon.

“I know what you’re looking at,” Yuri starts, but wriggles on the sheets as Byleth leans down to kiss his scar.

“By…”

“Yes?”

Yuri shifts his focus to the candelabra, the metal gleaming, emitting a fuzzy, distorted reflection of their bodies. Why is Yuri so  _ sad  _ when he’s finally getting so close to the one he loves? “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m not as perfect as I seem.”

“I know,” Byleth says, “I love that about you.” Byleth means it, Yuri knows, even before he witnesses Byleth’s enamored expression. “Please share yourself with me.”

“I’ll try.” The truth is there are other scars, internal and external, and Yuri will never completely heal.

“Where did you get this?”

“Hmm…” Yuri ponders, “knife fight with a Scorpion, if I recall correctly,”

Yuri tenses in anticipation as Byleth’s fingers slide beneath each side of Yuri’s top, but he surrenders, sitting up so Byleth is able to nudge the shirt and cloak off at once to fall beneath Yuri on the bed.

There are more scars on Yuri’s arms, some from the war, some from growing up, some from things Yuri would rather not remember. None compare to the one on the side of Yuri’s face, just above his jaw. It’s small, and luckily, makeup does wonders, Yuri can’t imagine greeting the world each day with that unsightly gash.

Byleth must have read Yuri’s mind when he traces his fingers along Yuri’s powdered cheek mere centimeters from where it is. “Careful there.”

“Will you take it off?”

Yuri pretends he heard Byleth wrong and starts unlacing his own leggings, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Byleth seizes Yuri’s wrist, “No.”

“Don’t you want to make love?” Yuri kisses Byleth, whispering against his lips, “I’m ready.”

Byleth returns a chaste peck, but that’s all, “will you please remove your makeup?”

When Byleth asks so nicely, when his eyes shine with trust, Yuri feels guilty that he doesn’t want to, but he  _ really  _ doesn’t want to, “I… can’t.”

“Yuri, it’s me,” Byleth reassures him, “I’ll love you no matter what.”

At that Yuri’s heart clenches, he was going to have to remove it eventually, but he hoped that’d be when Byleth was already in a blissful slumber. Then, Yuri could rise with the sun to reapply, and no one would be the wiser. But now here Byleth is, being curious again, being honest again, being loving again, making Yuri comfortable enough to reveal his true self.

Yuri inhales, letting his diaphragm expand fully before he relents, “All right, but don’t forget who I am.”

“I won’t,” Byleth says, “I never will.”

Yuri sighs at the sincerity, he’s amazed he doesn’t melt into the floor when he scoots off the bed to retrieve his small leather pack from where it rests against the leg of the settee. Riffling through the sexy wardrobe change, the bathing products, his treasured book of names, Yuri finds his makeup bag.

In it are such precious things to Yuri, the fuschia powder he applies to his eyes, the salve that hides his every blemish, the kohl liner, the vanilla-and-berries scented lipstick he doesn’t dare to leave his quarters without, and eventually the well-worn cloth and oil for removal. It wouldn’t hurt to grab  _ that  _ oil either.

He returns to Byleth with them, sitting down on the edge of the bed, Yuri attempts once more to maintain his facade, wiggling the other bottle of oil teasingly, “There’s still time to change your mind...”

Byleth shakes his head, “It’d mean everything to me.”

“You’re too cute.” Yuri smiles, even as he steels himself, even as he cracks, setting down the vial for later on the nightstand and accepting his fate.

It’s now or never, might as well get it over with; this logic applies to all kinds of unpleasant situations. Yuri quivers when Byleth holds his hand, earnest and warm, the simple gesture conveying to Yuri that this is okay, after all. Yuri can do this, he does it every night. He saturates the cloth with enough oil and scrubs off his mask. When he slides the rag down, it’s painted with an abstract amalgamation of pink, black, peach, flesh-color.

Still Yuri keeps a manicured hand on his cheek, over that scar.

“You’re so beautiful,” Byleth says, hugging Yuri tight, “Thank you.” Yuri’s so flustered, his hand drops, but he buries his face in Byleth’s shoulder, “I love you, Yuri.”

“Me too.” Yuri mumbles into dark fabric.

This is too tender; Yuri lets himself linger in the embrace only for a moment before he tilts his head to kiss what’s exposed of Byleth’s neck. Starting soft, but progressing to lick and nip, up along Byleth’s jaw, toward his ear, “Take off your shirt.”

Byleth obliges Yuri, revealing his muscular, similarly scar-laced torso, tossing his undershirt to the side. Byleth’s hands return to Yuri’s waist just as Yuri resumes kissing, reveling in Byleth tensing, his breath hitching as Yuri trails lower, swiping over Byleth’s collarbone, pecking at his chest, flicking his tongue at Byleth’s hardening nipple. Sadly, Yuri can’t leave a path of lipstick tonight; Yuri laments that he won’t be able to admire the evidence after this tryst. There’s some peachy gloss glistening around Byleth’s lips, at least.

Wrapped in Byleth’s arms like this, there’s only so low Yuri can travel, “Let go.”

Now, Yuri’s free to get onto the bed, imperfections on display as he poses, arching his back, running his fingertips down the slight curve of his waist, fluttering his less-enhanced eyelashes as he clasps Byleth’s wrist. Byleth’s eyes widen as Yuri cradles it in his hands and he sucks two of Byleth’s fingers into his mouth. Yuri gently swipes his tongue underneath, maintaining eye contact with Byleth as he purses his lips.

Saline.

Yuri releases his grip, now only vibrating his tongue against Byleth’s fingertips, leaving it up to Byleth to linger as Yuri slicks up the fingers with saliva.

Even in this unideal state, Byleth stares at Yuri just as reverently as when Yuri is done up. If only Yuri got the chance to change into the come-fuck-me garment he planned to wear. Damn it.

Yuri cranes his neck toward the settee, glancing toward his pack.

“Why are you so far away? I miss you,” Byleth states as if it weren’t one of the romantic things anyone has ever said to Yuri.

“Byleth.” Yuri isn’t sure how else to continue as his cheeks flush once more and he falls back into Byleth’s arms. They'll have more opportunities to play, more opportunities to tease. What they won't have is tonight, ever again.

Byleth shifts onto the bed too, and Yuri kisses him delicately, smiling against his lips as he cards his fingers through Byleth's hair. This time it’s Byleth who deepens the kiss, practically shoving his tongue into Yuri’s mouth. 

It’s Yuri’s favorite when Byleth is like this, when Byleth  _ wants  _ him. Retreating with a smack just as Byleth cups his chin, Yuri lets his tongue dangle in the air, enticing Byleth to chase after it.

When Byleth’s tongue flicks against his, their pupils are exactly aligned. Those eyes had been captivating when they were dusky sea, but the mystery of that jade hue is even more entrancing—whatever criticisms one might have about Crests, Byleth’s been blessed—and Yuri’s struck with magic every time Byleth draws near enough Yuri can study freckles that glint like amber within them.

Yuri’s breathless, weakened, as Byleth tilts his face to the side, “I never knew you had this…”

The scar. That bite of silver garden shears. The blood that trickled down, that fell in ruby droplets onto Yuri’s palm. It was only a matter of time.

“Most don't. And I'd prefer to keep it that way.” A memento of when Yuri had been willing to do anything for the right money, even kill his only friend. Maybe the Goddess had that happen to him for a reason, brought Yuri half to the grave, just to leave him that marring. A lesson in humility—ha, some good that did.

“It's cute,” Byleth says.

Yuri almost pities Byleth at the same time his heart throbs. There’s naught to do but offer all that Yuri has, silence these further explanations by meeting their lips once more.

They’re closer than ever, their chests press together—so warm, so right—sweat slicked between them, the scent hanging in the air.

“Where was I?” Yuri breathes, kisses back down to rest his face between Byleth's thighs, he's unlaced these breeches so many times, freeing Byleth’s cock is as rote as freeing his own. Lapping at the head is nothing new, but still Byleth shudders. 

Not to worry—Yuri won’t let him come yet, just work Byleth up until he  _ needs _ to fuck him.

Swirling his tongue around the tip and shaft, dipping into the slit, eventually taking in Byleth's length as deep as he can, until it grazes the back of Yuri’s throat—Yuri can’t deny he appreciates what Byleth’s been gifted with here, too.

As Yuri maintains that pressure, Byleth breathes methodically, it won't be long until he forces Yuri off. When Yuri first did this, Byleth barely lasted at all, but Yuri's far from average, so he can’t blame his poor love. The rise and fall of Byleth's chest, how he’s tilting his hips, the flavor of precum. Heh, it'll be soon.

Like clockwork, Byleth grabs at Yuri's shoulders urging him to release, Yuri’s lower lip brushes against the underside of Byleth’s ridge as he does, a strand of saliva remaining between him and the flushed tip.

“ _ Goddess, _ ” Byleth pants, eyes aglow with desire, “should we...?”

“Yeah,” Yuri tries not to sound desperate as he concurs; Byleth’s finally going to fuck him, “help me prepare?” Byleth stares blankly, inquisitively. “You've done this before, haven't you?”

“Yes, just…”

“I want your cock in me,” Yuri’s husky tone is almost belligerent, Goddess, Yuri's waited so long, “it has to fit, understand?”

“I do.”

Yuri sits up, hooking his hands beneath his own waistband, nudging his leggings, then his smallclothes off, kicking them to the floor. He’s naked now, and Byleth should be, too. Yuri drags off the clothing that was resting at Byleth’s thighs. No hiding anymore.

Even with how reprehensible Yuri is, Byleth kisses his cheek, so damn genuine.

Byleth picks up the vial of oil from where Yuri put it. Suddenly, Yuri is nervous once again, but the repetitive motion of Byleth’s arm gently stroking along his exposed back helps him relax.

The glass of the bottle is chill against Yuri’s forearm as Byleth taps him with it, “Why are you giving this to me? Thought you might like to do the honors…” 

“Maybe you could show me.” There’s a smirk in Byleth’s voice, and it absolutely makes Yuri ache.

Two can play at that game though, Yuri snatches the vial, gets on his knees and forearms, turning so Byleth can see his ass. “Oh? So you’d like a demonstration?”

“I would.”

“For you, my love,” Yuri coos, then applies the oil all over his hand, teasing his hole in tight circles before sinking a finger into that heat. Yuri grits his teeth at how good it already feels, his cock twitches,  _ pulses  _ as he grazes past his prostate, then Yuri chokes out, “Help me.”

Byleth doesn’t delay, grabbing the bottle of oil, popping the cork, wedging a slicked-up finger into Yuri.

“Goddess,” Yuri hisses at the delicious stretch. It’s even better when Byleth adds another, stuffing Yuri full, proceeding to scissor his fingers together inside. Sliding against Yuri’s, perhaps unintentionally nudging Yuri’s own finger toward that spot again. Yuri whines, “Fuck, I'm ready, Byleth,  _ please.  _ ”

“Come here,” Byleth commands, “I want to see you.”

He doesn’t mean—Yuri can't remember the last time he fucked face-to-face—though this is  _ Byleth _ .

How easy it is to fall into familiar patterns, how easy it is to get unsettled by a mere suggestion even with the one he loves, but Yuri is determined. As selfless as Yuri is, he’s never felt this way before, about anyone—he’d be content to hand off that book to Byleth, let Byleth scrawl his true name after he’s gone, lest Yuri whisper it in his dying breath. It could happen any day.

When Yuri lies down next to Byleth, his anxiety subsides at the light press of lips on his cheek.

Instinctually, Yuri grabs at one of the overage of pillows the rich tend to keep and shoves it under his ass for ease of access. Byleth will have no difficulty now.

Yet Byleth hesitates, surveying Yuri.

“Just… grip my thighs. Hold me,” Yuri instructs in such a soft lilt he doesn’t recognize his own voice.

“Yeah,” Byleth agrees, his fingers digging into Yuri’s supple flesh as he splays Yuri open, almost folding Yuri in half, “fuck.”

_ Fuck. _

It sounds so distinct every time Byleth says it. Typically only when Byleth finished, when Yuri employed his practiced techniques and pleasured Byleth how he deserved to be—when Byleth thrashed, whined, a quivering mess with bangs clinging to his brow, teeth and abs clenching, when that saltiness hit Yuri’s tongue.

Somehow this  _ fuck  _ is different. Byleth’s dribbling oil onto his cock, staring at Yuri, blinking, taking this all in. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Yuri nearly begs. Even so, Byleth begins pushing into Yuri excruciatingly slowly, “Give me it.” Byleth pauses, searching Yuri’s face for something, before he slides in all at once, eliciting a moan from Yuri. Byleth lets Yuri’s legs fall to the mattress when he’s buried to the hilt, so deep, so connected that their foreheads touch. This is a dream.

“You can move,” Yuri suggests, refocusing on the candelabra as he tries not to bask too long in Byleth’s own light. Each cone of white wax now more than half-way melted, but still shining just as incandescently as before.

“Goddess,” Byleth rasps, rocking his hips, “ _ Yuri. _ ” Byleth starts to build a rhythm punctuated by snaps against Yuri’s thighs, “It’s so good.” 

And Byleth’s right. Yuri keens, breathy and wanting and only defined by his basest needs, “Kiss me.” 

The expensive sheets rustle beneath Yuri and Byleth as their tongues roll over each other and Byleth picks up the pace. Every touch, every press against his prostate, and not, brings Yuri closer. But it’s more than the physical feeling—Yuri’s never been this open, never been this undone, never been less concerned about how imprecise their kisses grow as Byleth thrusts erratically, as Yuri grips Byleth’s firm ass.

“Can you come like this?” Byleth manages between groans.

“Yeah.” Yuri’s already toppling near the edge when Byleth asks. Just a little more, Yuri claws at Byleth’s shoulder muscles, “ _ Harder. _ ”

Yuri’s a coil, wound tight, and unraveling is inevitable. It’s hotter and hotter as Byleth hits into him. Consumed by the sensation, Yuri doesn’t care if his long fingernails break skin, Byleth’s strong enough to take it. Yuri’s heart pounds against Byleth, tingles spark as he hangs on.

Try as Byleth might to hide it, Yuri can tell Byleth’s close, too.

“I love you, Yuri.”

Even though Byleth’s said it so many times tonight, the tender phrase has its own effect,  _ maybe. _ Whether it does or doesn’t, Yuri feels that low rumble within, the tremble, the shake, “Fuck.”

Byleth looks at Yuri like he’s the whole world. Even though he’s fucking Yuri hard, fast, it’s as if everything stands still. The purity, the slight parting of Byleth’s lips. Again, Yuri closes his eyes for he might go blind if he stares too long at something so immaculate. It tears Yuri apart and he spills all over his lithe abdomen.

“I love you,” Yuri returns the phrase.

The cum slides, sticking between them, as Byleth gasps, “Close.”

Yuri’s fucked so many, been fucked by so many, but he’s never felt as complete as he does when Byleth empties inside. After that warmth seeps into Yuri, after Byleth halts, then collapses onto Yuri, when he rolls to Yuri’s side and stares into his eyes.

Byleth’s panting next to Yuri, some lilac strands of hair trapped beneath him. 

“I told you it’d be good,” Yuri teases.

“It was,” Byleth confirms, “the best.”

Time to clean up, time to be presentable. That’s enough slipping of his mask.

Of course, Byleth doesn’t let Yuri depart without him, he follows him to the bathing area, and tends to Yuri just as lovingly, even dotting Yuri’s pulse points with the perfume he brought. 

Of course, when Yuri sits silently back onto the settee, Byleth joins him, wraps his cloak back around Yuri’s naked body.

Of course, Byleth rekindles the fire for Yuri before asking, “Do you need anything?”

And, Yuri answers, sincerely as he’s ever, “Only you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think.
> 
> I love Yurileth, especially sof Yurileth uwu.
> 
> Come say hi on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/fraldariuwus)


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